No, this post isn’t about gluten-free cuisine, exactly, though it may figure here. Yesterday I posted about making serious change, in the guise of cooking and flipping pancakes. (It was a stretch, but whatever…).  Today I’m starting my list of the things that I need to change…to “cook,” and bubble/think about, and  hopefully flip…starting with this, since the morning did not go well, after a very good start last week and the week before:

1) Remain Disciplined, Even in the Face of Other Pressures, About Bedtime and Morning Schedule.  My kids need 10 or 10 1/2 hours sleep.  And we have the luxury of sending them out the door at 8:25 or so, and still getting them to school on time. (For my friends in the suburbs, and elsewhere where school bus schedules prevail, I am sorry for the disparity..). If they’re upstairs by 8 p.m.–which they’ve proven willing to do–and asleep by 8:45 or even 9, all is well. But when that gets pushed past 9, 9:30, there is hell to pay in the morning. No more. (I could write a complement about homework and bathing and after-school and evenings, but we all get the gist.)

2) Start Writing Notes to People Again. In my household, it’s truly become a lost art, and for that I carry deep regret. I am actually quite good at writing lovely, from-the-heart notes, and used to take great pleasure and comfort in it, but it became incredibly time consuming, and stress-inducing. My handwriting is illegible, and I sometimes fear email is inadequate. So I err on the side of paralysis. As someone at our community Tashlich (or annual river-or-creek-side, symbolic-sin-tossing ritual and gathering) suggested to us all,  “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” Instead of writing, which I worry over, I have tried to thank, console, and just offer best wishes in person. But it’s often too little too late, or even if adequate and on time, not all that folks want or expect. To anyone who has been hurt by this negligence, I am truly sorry. I won’t write another blog post until I write at least one note of gratitude or congratulations or condolence.  Or perhaps all three…

3) Take Other People’s Stuff to Heart, Less. A very long time ago, when I was trying to corral a wonderful but somewhat difficult group of people, in a particularly difficult time personally, I adopted the mantra, “It’s about them.” Depending on the situation, I could use it either magnanimously, meaning, “this is FOR them, figure out what THEY need,” or self-protectively, meaning, “This is their stuff [though I used a stronger term than “stuff” in my head]. Don’t take it personally.”  There have been some challenging moments in the last year in my circles, and the hardest parts for me have been when certain individuals (on either side of a situation) get into extreme partial-truth-spreading and blame-and-tarnish mode. It hasn’t been about me, at all actually, but as I told my compatriots recently in a bereavement group, “I’m a freaking empath.” I need to compartmentalize. Even if I don’t think it’s about me, there are times when I need to remember that it’s definitely “about them” and them alone. Others with more balanced approaches will work things out reasonably and constructively; I need to have faith in that and stay unruffled, unless I’m in a position to really help.

4) Take Other People’s Stuff to Heart, More. I have many friends who know I have been there for them when they needed me. There are some who will say I’ve been there when they didn’t expect me. But there are many I would like to have been there for more, if my health, kids’ schedules, fatigue, and just my meta-fatigue about it all, hadn’t got in the way. I also manage to lose track of folks’ lives too much, swept up in my own stuff, not to mention being stuck in a swirl of often-lost notes and cards and invitations. So along with writing notes, I am going to try to figure out some system of check-ins with the people in my life, to make sure no one I love slips through the cracks. And I’m going to try to work out a system (with supports) on how as a family we can not lose track so frequently of others’ important moments. To those many with whom we’ve screwed up on this front, I hope you’ll forgive us and feel supportive of our path to improvement. And, on the one-area-where-I-needn’t-beat-myself-up-as-much front, I’ll continue trying to be as present as circumstances allow when I’m in someone’s company, whoever they may be.

5) Be Really Present for My Kids. One thing I learned in my time corralling wonderful, only sometimes challenging people, was that just being present (and often silent) is all important. I thank my last wonderful group of people-to-be-corralled for reminding me of that anew, and proving how well it works. I was eerily conscious at the time that it was preparing me to parent. Now, after a lovely stretch as a part-time nonprofit Executive Director, I’ve planned to work on contract, as an editor and story coach, just when children are at school (or if I have new-found evening energy, perhaps when they’re asleep). My kids’ lives are complicated, more complicated than my life was at their age–raised by my biological parents, and parents of my own race, in the ‘burbs, in a “simpler” time (for children, anyway), without such a swirl of social activity, and not in a fishbowl of clergy-kid-dom.

I want to be there to overhear their murmurings, to catch what’s going on, to offer space and supervision for play dates. I want long stretches of leisurely time, so my queries into their lives seem less urgent, and might actually be answered thoughtfully. I want to be able to offer myself and them and my husband, too, the structure we need to thrive, and the flexibility we need to survive. And I want to continue bringing in enough money to keep us within our conservative budget, while doing something that I love. Wish me/us luck!

5) Keep Getting Healthy.  My medical roller-coaster the last few years is only the most dramatic series of episodes in a lifetime of meh health, from IBS to severe menstrual cramps and more. There’s research showing that all the conditions I’ve faced fit the Celiac profile. There’s also research that shows that Celiac disease–or gluten sensitivity more broadly–can impact the brain and nervous system, causing even spinal compression (like the kind I had to have surgery for in 2008), balance problems (which may have caused my traumatic fall in 2009), and other neurological issues (from headaches to twitches and spasms to “brain fog,” plus ADHD, depression, and anxiety, all of which I’ve dealt with from time to time). People with untreated Celiac are more likely to develop any number of serious health problems in later life. And more than being present for my kids, now in spirit, I want to continue being present for them and my husband in body and mind, for a good, long time. The good news is, my Celiac and gluten sensitivity are being treated–as long as I stick to a very, very strict gluten-free diet.  I have stamina I didn’t have last year. I am cheerier than I’ve been in ages. I am more calm and centered.  But when I screw up, and trust food I shouldn’t, or come in contact with something gluten-y unwittingly, it all temporarily falls to pieces. The trick is not screwing up (and also taking my vitamins, because Celiac-induced deficiencies mess with me, too).  Another key trick, for me, will be buying fresh food, and cooking a great deal more than I have in recent years…and trying, trying, to take it all in stride, and with pride.

That’s what’s cooking  here… What’s cooking in YOUR teshuvah kitchen?